


your ex-lover is dead

by IndieBughead



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, and theyre feeling feelings!, by heavily i mean im borrowing the whole concept so i want that to be clear, heavily inspired by stars’ "you ex-lover is dead", honestly a bit sad but also kinda not sad so make of it what you will, in which archie and veronica were something once and now theyre not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 12:26:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16118423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndieBughead/pseuds/IndieBughead
Summary: He’s leaning against the bar, drink in hand as Reggie attempts, not for the first time, to talk him into taking the Feldman case. He catches a flash of deep purple and raven hair to his right, and immediately he’s taken back to his junior year of college, lacy underwear decorating his sheets, pearls carefully tucked away for the night in his bedside table,Archiekinsbeing whispered in his ear—or,12 years later, they meet again.





	your ex-lover is dead

**Author's Note:**

> yes you read that right, maria finally attempts her hand at varchie!  
> i’m as surprised as you are, honestly, but i was listening to [this amazing song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SrDoRvWRE4) a few days ago and honestly i just _had_ to.
> 
> (pls listen to it, it’s key to understanding the vibe of the ficlet--i also borrowed some lyrics and made them into dialogue so, trust me, go listen to it.)
> 
> hope you enjoy!

He spots her first.

 

He’s leaning against the bar, drink in hand as Reggie attempts, not for the first time, to talk him into taking the Feldman case. He catches a flash of deep purple and raven hair to his right, and immediately he’s taken back to his junior year of college, lacy underwear decorating his sheets, pearls carefully tucked away for the night in his bedside table, _Archiekins_ being whispered in his ear—

 

Reggie barks his name and slaps him on the shoulder to get his attention back.  He clears his throat, takes a bigger than necessary gulp from his rum and coke and nods, hoping it’s enough for his co-worker to continue listing the benefits of taking this court case.

 

He spaces out shortly after, alternating between sipping on his drink, nodding, and, when he thinks Reggie isn’t paying attention, taking stock of the busy lobby in the hopes of catching a flash of purple again.

 

It’s so strange, he thinks, to see her again.  Their history—what he’s able to remember, that is—brief and sweet as it was, had started at a college mixer party and lasted up until the last day of break, when she made her way back upstate with the promise of calling him soon.

 

She hadn’t.

 

And yet, here she is, in Montreal, walking around his law firm’s lobby during their annual event. What’s worse is he can’t, for the life of him, remember her name.

 

 It’s not until later, when he’s thanking the hostess for handing him his coat, that he sees her again.

 

“Archie Andrews,” he hears from behind, a voice he’s come to associate with one of Reggie’s new friends since the merger, Ethel from Acquisitions. “Let me introduce you to—”

 

He turns around quickly. She looks as surprised as he must too, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open. She recovers gracefully though, clearing her throat and stepping forward to offer her left hand.

 

Her ring feels cold against his bare finger.

 

“Yeah, I think we’ve met before,” he blurts out, chiding himself immediately for not letting Ethel finish her sentence.

 

“That we have,” she says softly. “How long has it been, 11 years, give or take?”

 

“12,” Archie corrects, scratching the side of his neck. “Wow. I—never thought we’d see each other again.”

 

His 21-year-old self had hoped to, for weeks, but then Betty had introduced him to Ginger from her Economics class, and the raven-haired girl had gradually stopped showing up in his dreams.

 

 “Ugh, Archie, I got to stay a bit more,” Ethel interrupts, holding her phone to her ear in an irritated manner as she mouths, “ _boss_ ” and rolls her eyes. “Do you mind sharing a cab with V? She’s heading your way, she’s at the Garden Inn.”

 

 _He’s_ not heading his way,  and _V_ looks like she’s about to protest, so he’s not quite sure what propels him to say, “I— _uh_ , yeah, sure.”

 

He should be trying to take it back and make and excuse, but instead, as he watches his new companion grab her own coat, is how he _cannot_ let Jughead find out about this.

 

 _Archie,_ he would say _,_ clutching the bridge of his nose and inhaling deeply _, how many times do we have to go over your people-pleasing tendencies man, and how they’re not good for you?_

 

It’s pouring outside, so catching a taxi proves to be a difficult task. Whistling is useless, as the sound of the rain hitting the pavement is deafening, so Archie settles for waiting until one is close enough to wave his hand in the hopes that it’ll stop for them.

 

They drive across Pont Champlain in silence.

 

He can feel her eyes on him, they trail over his face and down to his downturned lips. He knows what he looks like, the reflection on his window gives him away. He looks sad. But he’s not, not really, he’s just frustrated at not being able to remember her name.

 

 _Vanessa, Valerie, Victoria_ —

 

“You deserve an explanation,” she says finally, her voice soft against the patter of the rain.  “I—listen, Archie, I was falling in love with you, and at the time, well, it scared the shit out of me.”

 

He turns to face her, mouth already open and ready to tell her that it’s okay, that she doesn’t have to explain herself, that it was _years_ ago—but she sighs and holds up a finger, so he sits back and allows her to continue.

 

“You were such a great guy, but I was simply not ready to commit,” she says. “I'm sorry I didn't call you like I said I would, at least to explain.”

 

The simple _it's okay_ is ready on his lips, but he figures that if the universe gave him the chance to have this conversation, with this person he shared a small time with and never really knew why it had come to an end, he might as well be as honest as he can be.

 

“It took me a couple of weeks, to get over you,” he starts, clearing his throat. “But a friend of mine introduced me to a friend of hers, and well, we hit it off pretty quickly.”

 

She laughs. “I'm glad. It worked out in the end, you know? I can't imagine not having met my wife.” They both look down to her lap, where she's playing with her ring fondly. Their eyes meet on the way up. “Are you…?”

 

“Married? No,” he chuckles and shrugs. “Not yet. My girlfriend travels a lot, for work. She's in San Francisco right now.”

 

“Maybe one day,” she offers with a tentative smile.

 

“Maybe one day,” he echoes, before adding, “I'm happy for you.”

 

They sit in silence, much more comfortable now, until they reach her hotel. She insists on paying for the ride, so in turn he convinces her to let him walk her to the lobby, the  rain long gone.

 

To his surprise, she pulls him for a brief hug when they come to a stop in front of the revolving door. He places his hands tentatively on her waist, and closes his eyes when she leans closer to whisper in his ear, “I'm not sorry I met you, Archie. I'm not sorry it's over, and I'm not sorry there's nothing to save.”

 

They pull away from each other, and Archie manages to wish her well before she disappears through the door.

 

It's not until later, when the taxi's driven away and he's standing in front of the Cooper-Jones residence, ready to sit and hear his godson ramble about his day, that he remembers.

 

_Veronica._

**Author's Note:**

> ....what do we think? should i stick to bughead?  
>  honestly varchie is kinda fun to write but cheronica is fun-ner so who knows if i will try this again.
> 
> let me know what you thought in the comments!
> 
> as always, come talk to me on tumblr at @IndieBughead.
> 
> edit: friends, life sucks. there’s a mistake on this line (see caps-locked part):
> 
> "He should be trying to take it back and make and excuse, but instead, as he watches his new companion grab her own coat, ALL HE CAN THINK OF is how he cannot let Jughead find out about this."
> 
> but i refuse to change it cause this ficlet is 1111 words and i just, cannot. it is too pleasing and call me petty but i will not edit it, so at least you know i know there’s a mistake, hahaha. whoops x2.


End file.
